


Why do you have to go (And Make Things So Complicated)

by 27dragons, tisfan



Series: MCU Kink Bingo [60]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, BAMF Pepper Potts, Everyone Is Poly Because Avengers, F/M, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Paparazzi, Playboy Tony Stark, Polyamory Negotiations, Seduction, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-28 09:32:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17784914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/27dragons/pseuds/27dragons, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisfan/pseuds/tisfan
Summary: He could see the headlines now: Stiff with a stiffie. Or He died happy. Or Stark monument already erected.For MCU Kink Bingo, N1 - Character is a Femme Fatale





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This continues (but is not reliant on) [Something Truly Shocking](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17278808%22)

Tony was going to _die_. Specifically, he was going to be _murdered_ , right here in his own workshop. Either Natasha was going to give him a heart attack, or Bucky was going to clue in and come after him with a knife.

Pepper’s worst nightmare was going to come true: Tony was going to die with an erection, and she was going to be stuck trying to keep _that_ out of the news cycle.

He could see the headlines now: _Stiff with a stiffie._ Or _He died happy._ Or _Stark monument already erected._

Jesus. Natasha had always, since the first day Tony had met her, been a femme fatale, but even when she’d been trying to seduce her way into his company under Fury’s orders, she had never been quite so determined about it. And the _femme_ was a lot closer to _fatale_ , these days, because she had a _boyfriend_ now. An impressively sexy, resting-murder-face, not-quite-ex-assassin of a boyfriend, who would absolutely come after Tony’s balls if he realized that Tony was thinking about his girlfriend that way.

Even if it wasn’t his _fault_. He was _trying_ not to, but Natasha did not make it easy on a guy, with her barely-there bikini, asking him to put _sunscreen_ on her, for pity’s sake, because the stuff gummed up Bucky’s arm.

Why couldn’t Bucky just use his _other_ hand to lube up his girlfriend? Why did it have to be _Tony’s_ job?

Christ on a cracker, and the draping herself seductively over the furniture all the time! Logically, Tony was pretty sure that was just a habit for her, left over from the days when she was earning her codename much more literally, seducing marks into her deadly web. Damn it, Tony was only human! And since he and Pepper had split a year or so back, he hadn’t exactly been on the dating scene, so he had a lot of pent-up urges floating around.

This last episode had been far too close; Tony had actually found himself staring down into her cleavage, trying to decide if he was actually seeing a bit of nipple or just imagining it, when he’d glanced up and caught Bucky staring at him. He’d nearly died on the spot.

Possibly literally.

Not that Tony wouldn’t have deserved it, even though he and Bucky were on pretty decent terms these days. It had been a rocky path to start, but now Bucky came to Tony for trouble with the arm, then stuck around and watched old episodes of _Star Trek_ with him. Sometimes Bucky brought Tony snacks when Tony was working late, and let Tony ramble on to him about whatever the latest project was. (Tony had actually worked through several knotty issues simply using Bucky as a sounding board.) Also, Tony would never admit it, but Bucky had long since ousted Steve in Tony Stark’s Avengers Sexiness Rankings. All the same supersoldier muscle topped off with a bad-boy cherry? It was like goddamn catnip.

Still, their hard-won friendship was probably not up to the pressure of Tony leering at Bucky’s girlfriend.

Tony slumped onto his stool and put his head in his hands. Maybe he could hide in the workshop until they’d finished swimming and then put clothes on again. _Lots_ of clothes.

That didn’t seem very likely, as there was a rap on the glass door of the workshop and there were two bathing-suit-clad not-quite-Russian superspies right outside. Natasha had Bucky by the strings of his shorts, and the way she was tugging on them was not disguising at all that Bucky had a rather impressive package just underneath the nylon-spandex material.

Yep, he was going to die with an erection. _Iron Man’s hard end._

“Got a minute?” Natasha mouthed, waving her free hand around to indicate-- something. Her, her boobs, maybe. Tony wasn’t quite sure, but the gesture made her body wriggle impressively.

And because he’d never been able to resist either one of them for very long, he waved back, signaling FRIDAY to open the door. “Thought you two would be splashing it up by now,” he said as they came in.

“We had a question,” Natasha said. She walked over to one of the workshop tables, still dragging Bucky, which was both hilarious and very distracting, because there was an awful lot of Winter Skin on display. He turned, just a little, and Tony got a really good look at Bucky’s shapely ass. He lifted Nat up so she was seated on the work table, and then practically lounged between her pale thighs.

“She’s been going about this all wrong,” Bucky said, and Natasha smacked him on the shoulder.

“Shut up, you said I could ask,” she said.

“No, I said you _could_ just open your mouth like you were an actual grown up and everything,” Bucky retorted. “She could, really. I’m not sure if she will, however.” He gave Tony a look, like he was expecting some sort of male solidarity sympathy or something.

Which Tony was absolutely not going to give him while Natasha was _watching_ , because Tony liked all his body parts right where they were, unskewered. “What’s the question?” He picked up the nearest tool to fiddle with, because he needed something to do with his hands that was not touching all the gorgeous skin in front of him.

“It’s complicat--”

“It’s not _complicated_. What’s so hard about ‘would you like to have sex’?” Bucky demanded. “It’s not that complicated, is it?”

DOES NOT COMPUTE. Tony opened his mouth, closed it. Considered some sort of hard-reboot option for brains. “I’m sorry, what?”

“That-- that’s why it’s complicated,” Natasha said. “Look, you broke him. What good is he to either of us if his brain leaks right out?”

Bucky leered. “I can think of a few things-- _Ow_ , stop hitting me, woman.”

“You’re going to have to back up a few lines,” Tony said. He felt like someone had kicked him in the head, only without the pain. “Someone forgot to give me a script.”

“We’ll start with the softball questions,” Natasha said. “You like both women, and men. Bi-- or pansexual. If we’re wrong about that, obviously, the whole question is off the table, but you don’t have a particular objection to… men. Or women. As partners, dating, bed or otherwise?”

Tony had to snort at that. “You _researched_ me, Romanov,” he pointed out. “You’ve seen my sex tapes. All of which were, if somewhat ill-advised, entirely consensual and enthusiastic.”

“See, I told you. If he’s got a problem, it’s not with the gender. So, you want to, or no?” Bucky leaned back against Nat’s thigh, spreading her legs even further to accommodate that impressive body.

“This is where you lose me,” Tony said. “Am I hallucinating? FRIDAY, you’d tell me if I were hallucinating, right?”

“You bet, boss.”

“Forgive him, he has no sense,” Natasha said. “Comes from being frozen so long. His brain, it’s all… freezer burned. See? You don’t do any better than I do. We try-- looking pretty, flirting. You ignore us, both together, or separate. You look, and then look away.”

“See, doll, we think you’re pretty swell,” Bucky said. “And, spending so many years -- both of us -- not gettin’ what we want, we aren’t hung up on… stuff. It’s a indecent proposal, maybe, but we’d like you-- to get with us.” Bucky pointed, like Tony might not know which _you_ he was talking about, or which _us_.

“It’s all right, if you are not interested,” Natasha said, but there was the slightest pout to those perfect lips. “We have each other, and that is enough. But I’m greedy. I want it all.”

“Fri?” Tony couldn’t quite take his eyes off them.

“Still not hallucinating, boss.”

“The Black Widow and the Winter Soldier want me in a three-way,” Tony summarized, testing the surreality of that statement, tasting its flavor.

“Tony sandwich, extra mayo,” Bucky added, directing that leer at Tony again.

Tony blinked at him. “What is the mayo in this metaphor?” he wondered. “Because I can think of a couple of different-- Wait, never mind, wrong focus. That’s what all the... _this_ has been about?” He demanded, waving a hand at Natasha’s unfairly skimpy bikini.

“He is crude, but to the point, yes,” Natasha said. “We like you. If you like either of us-- together is best, but if only me, then Bucky will content himself with watching, or hearing about it later.”

“Bucky will, will he?” Bucky wondered. “I don’t recall agreeing with being _content_ about that.”

Tony watched them bickering for a moment. “This is for real? You’re not pranking me, or got dared, or something?”

“Why the hell would I do that? I mean I get why Tasha would, she sometimes does things just because someone tells her no--” Bucky reached a hand out. “We _like_ you. There's nothin’ objectionable about me, is there? I mean… look you don't gotta let me down easy or nothin’. If you ain't interested, just say so. We can be, you know, adult about it.”

“Speak for yourself,” Natasha said. “I reserve the right to cry and eat way too much ice cream and drown myself in vodka.”

“I-- Yes. I’m in.” He couldn’t think of a single reason that he’d want to say no to two of the most gorgeous, amazing people he knew.

“Heh, too bad for you,” Bucky said, and for a moment Tony's heart absolutely _stopped_ , here it came, the punchline. Maybe even literally. “No excuse to eat too much ice cream.”

Holy shit, this was _real_. “Ice cream is its own excuse,” Tony said, talking on autopilot through the spinning daze of his brain. “Uh. Logistics?”

“Tony sandwich,” Bucky said with enthusiasm. “Seems only fair to let you get all the reward, at least the first time.”

“Come here and kiss Bucky so his brain will stop glitching,” Natasha told him. “And I will watch and decide if you get to do it again.”

Tony almost asked, _Now?_ but it got caught in his throat, arrested by Natasha’s expectant look. “Right. That’s... Right.” He put the screwdriver down and slid off the stool, moving toward them through what felt like a dream. Toe to toe with Bucky, feeling the heat baking off their skin, Tony thought, _well, if it’s an audition, then I’d better nail it._

 _Heh. Nail it._ His lips pulled slightly into a smirk. He reached up with one hand, tangling his fingers in Bucky’s hair and pulling Bucky down. He fell into the kiss, tentative at first as they felt each other out, and then more confident.

Bucky turned until he had his back to his girlfriend, her knees still around his hips, as he moved into the kiss, tongue flicking out to test Tony’s reactions, one hand going around Tony’s waist to draw him in even closer, the other sliding down Tony’s shoulder, to his bicep, then around, until Bucky’s fingers were tracing the line between Tony’s tee and his jeans.

It had been a while since he’d been in a threesome (or foursome, or moresome) but not so long that it was weird when Nat started petting them both, her fingers moving curiously from Bucky’s shoulder to Tony’s hair, and then along the back of his neck, fingernails dragging lightly, eliciting a shiver.

Tony finally had to pull away first, panting for breath. “Those of us who are not supersoldiers need to breathe occasionally.” He grinned at Bucky and then looked past Bucky at Nat. “Verdict?”

“We will take you upstairs and demonstrate the supersoldier’s ability to breathe through his ears,” Natasha told him. “And he has a very long-- tongue.”

“Among other things,” Bucky added, easily enough. “Don’t scare him off, Tasha. At least wait t’ panic him _after_ I get my hands down his jeans.”

Tony shook his head. “I’m not panicking. Confused and surprised, but not panicking.” He backed up a step to make space and held out his hands to both of them. “My bed’s the biggest.”

“You lead, then. I’ll follow with the good view,” Bucky said. “Seriously, can I just--” He made a squeeze-gesture in front of Tony, like he was starring on an old-time Charmin commercial.

Tony smirked a little wider. “Don’t damage the goods, but feel free to test the springs.”

Bucky pulled him back in, hands going straight down Tony’s back to explore Tony’s ass. God, Bucky had huge hands, practically spanning the entire expanse of Tony’s cheek, palming him like a basketball at a Globetrotter’s game. “Perfect,” Bucky purred in Tony’s ear.

“Save some for the rest of us,” Natasha told him, like there was a line queuing up or something. She slid one hand into Tony’s back pocket as she hopped down from the workshop table, which did interesting, bouncy things to her anatomy. And Tony was allowed to look, and admire, which was a relief, because he wasn’t sure he could really, actually do anything but. Bucky crossed his arm over Nat’s, reaching into the other back pocket, so they formed an X; one on either side.

Well, okay then. Tony took a step and they moved with him, in tandem, as if they had rehearsed it. Spies and assassins and their freaky ways. Which, Tony thought, would make for _very_ interesting and athletic sex, he suspected. Jesus, how was he even going to _keep up?_

 _Mental breakdown later,_ he told himself firmly, and continued through the workshop to the elevator. “My floor, Fri. Express route.”

There was a pointed silence before the elevator moved, as if Friday was registering some sort of… artificial judginess. He’d thought JARVIS was the only one who preferred his sexcapades to be tame, but maybe Friday had picked up more from her predecessor than Tony had supposed. It didn’t seem to bother Bucky, who was absentmindedly tugging on Natasha’s bikini strap, threatening to spill her out of it entirely.

There was another pointed little pause before the doors opened again, and Tony made a mental note to have a chat with Friday later. Much later. And then he stopped thinking about anything at all that wasn’t the two perfect specimens in front of him.

He reached for Natasha, hand stopping an inch short of her hair. “Okay?”

Natasha took the outstretched hand, planted a delicate kiss in his palm, and then put that palm directly over her breast, pushing herself into the touch. “Yes?”

“Oh, hell yes.” Tony cupped her breast, delicately exploring, testing, finding the most sensitive places, the pressures and movements that made her eyelashes flutter, her mouth fall open in a gasp. He leaned down to kiss her, flicking his tongue against her lip and then opening to her own explorations.

Bucky moved in behind Tony, giving his ass another squeeze and making an utterly adorable squeal of delight. Tony shouldn’t find that cute, should he? That was undignified, or -- whatever it was was going to have to wait, as Bucky reached all the way around, his fingers hauling Natasha even closer. Tony was starting to feel remarkably overdressed for the party, because when he pulled back a little, Bucky had -- or maybe Natasha had -- undone the strap to her bikini top and she was, in fact, spilling out of the tiny thing.

“Isn’t she lovely?” Bucky murmured in Tony’s ear. He knew exactly what to do, making a vee with his fingers to pinch her nipple erect, and then thumbing lightly over the tip while Natasha juddered and shivered and tried to move closer, going up on her toes and whimpering.

Tony couldn’t resist leaning down to lick over that captive nipple, and then moving to the other side, sucking it in, letting his teeth graze just lightly over the skin as he traced circles around it with his tongue. He wrapped his arm around her waist, wanting to feel every shudder and moan.

Finally, laughing and still shivering with too much stimulation, Natasha pushed them both away, swatting at Bucky’s hand. “You promised a very big bed, Mr. Stark,” she said, batting her eyelashes at him like she was some blushing virgin. The tone was convincing enough, even if her casual ease with nudity gave it the lie.

“Also, someone is wearing too much clothing,” Bucky said.

“Absolutely, you’re completely correct,” Natasha said. The bikini bottom unfastened at the sides and she flicked the little scrap of fabric in Bucky’s face before bouncing off in the direction of the bedroom. She didn’t need directions, because, of course she didn’t.

Tony glanced at Bucky, and gestured. “After you. My turn to ogle.”

Tony half-expected Bucky to shuck his shorts with the same gleeful anticipation that he’d done everything else, but suddenly he was flushing, neck red and ears burning. He fumbled with the strings at his swim trunks before shoving them down and stepping awkwardly out of them. “Yeah?” That glorious blush kept going, crawling down Bucky’s chest as he lifted his chin to let Tony look at him.

And wow, was there a lot to look at. “Yeah,” Tony said, letting his eyes linger, even as he reached back to pull his tee over his head. He dropped it to the floor, then unzipped and dropped his jeans as well. The view wasn’t as nice -- Tony was no supersoldier, and on the wrong side of forty-five, to boot -- but he thought he did okay. Bucky’s eyes certainly seemed to agree. “Ready?”

“I’m waiting--” Natasha called from the other room.

“Bad idea to keep her waiting, she gets inventive,” Bucky said.

And, apparently she did, because as they got to the door, she was posed dramatically on Tony’s bed, the comforter kicked onto the floor. She paused, then sunk until a perfect split, legs going from one side of the bed to the other. She bent forward from the waist, tossing her head back to give them a sultry look.

“I’m failing to see the downside to this inventiveness,” Tony observed.

“What do you like, doll?” Bucky wondered, tracing that metal hand up and down Tony’s spine, inspecting the line of it. “Bottom? Top? Middle? On your knees between Tasha’s thighs while I stroke you from behind?”

“I’m flexible,” Tony said, suppressing the shiver from being touched with that hand. “Not as flexible as Natasha, mind you, but who is? You got something you want to try, lay it on me. Or what you said, that sounds great.”

Bucky made a deep, snarling noise right in Tony’s ear. “I will absolutely _lay it on you_.”

Natasha rolled over, spread across Tony’s bed like an offering. “I like that idea. I get to lay back and let you two do all the work,” she said.

“Why do I doubt that?” Tony wondered. He climbed onto the bed and knelt between her legs to nuzzle between her breasts, kissing upward toward her neck, dragging teeth along her earlobe. He propped himself up on one arm and let the other roam over her smooth, creamy skin.

“Mmmm,” Natasha hummed, arching into his touch. “His hands aren’t cold.”

Bucky slid that metal hand down Tony’s back, along the curve of his ass. “Do you think my hand is _unpleasantly_ cold?” Slick, cool fingers explored Tony’s thigh, almost frictionless.

“Uh, no,” Tony said, “but I have an unnatural boner for tech, so I might not be the prevailing opinion there.” He made his way back down to Natasha’s breasts, teasing and toying with them and watching in awe as she twisted and arched under him.

“Your boner doesn’t _feel_ unnatural,” Bucky pointed out, keeping that chilly touch very light-- to avoid pinching with the minute plates in his fingers, probably. He swapped out, warm skin replacing cool metal, and the contrast was enough to make Tony wobble. “It’s interesting. The difference, I mean.”

“Ug, he gets like that,” Natasha said, rolling her eyes with affectionate exasperation. “Give him a condom or a pair of gloves and he’ll stick that finger places it’s really not supposed to be.” Tony wasn’t sure if that was supposed to dissuade him or not.

“I am one hundred percent down for that,” Tony admitted. “Though at the moment...” He wriggled and slid further down the bed so he could drag his mouth down Natasha’s stomach, hand stroking the inside of her thigh. He glanced up at her to make sure she was on board, then flicked his tongue along her folds.

Natasha hummed, her hips rocking up to meet Tony’s mouth with approval. Her hands went into Tony’s hair, tugging lightly, and then her thumbs brushed along his ears. She tasted sweet and tangy. Fresh, like she’d actually been _planning_ on swimming and had showered not more than an hour ago.

Tony almost lost the thread for a moment, as Bucky reached around Tony’s middle, teasing at him with one cool hand and one overly warm one. “You have lube? Condom? I didn’t know if you were actually going to say yes, and… well, there aren’t pockets in a swimsuit for a reason.”

Without lifting his head, Tony made a vague gesture toward the nightstand where he kept such supplies. It had been a long time since he’d done this sort of thing, but he remembered that it was best to get his rhythm established before activities at the other end got too far along, because otherwise he’d get distracted and someone would end up irritated. He spread Natasha’s labia with two fingers and went to work, letting her hands in his hair provide hot-and-cold clues.

Natasha’s legs kept shifting, rubbing against Tony’s arms. Her knees would come up for a bit, squeezing at his shoulders, and then flopping back down again, spreading herself wide for him to work.

“For you, if you need them,” Bucky told him, putting two wrapped condoms near Nat’s shoulder. “And for me--” There was a soft snick as Bucky opened the lube. He drizzled a line down Tony’s crack, working it in with his flesh hand, rubbing along Tony’s hole, up his crack, and then down to his balls, teasing as he went. Circling the opening to Tony’s body and inhaling as Tony shifted. “God, your ass is pretty. Like, sorry, Tasha, but Tony’s got ya beat there.”

“He keeps doing what he’s doing, and he can beat me wherever he likes,” Natasha said, her voice spiraling up toward the end as she gasped and then flexed again.

“I don’t usually discuss the heavier kink until the third date,” Tony quipped, and then went back to what he was doing. He’d always liked going down on a woman, but god, she tasted sweet.

“Pretty sure threesomes count as heavy kink, Tony,” Natasha pointed out. “Although, as you say-- aaah! -- I have read your dossier. Hell, I wrote-- mooost of it.”

Tony squeaked as Bucky leaned over and nipped at the curve of his ass, leaving a spark of teeth, and then spread into welcoming heat. “Lovely.” Bucky’s finger slid around Tony’s hole again, and then breached him. “Like that, do you?”

“Mm-hm,” Tony hummed. Which seemed to do interesting things to Natasha, given the way she gasped, so he did it again.

It was easy to lose himself in the push and pull of bodies, the tastes and smells and sensations. He pushed forward into Natasha and back into Bucky and let the rhythm take over the endless whirring of his brain.

Bucky breached him, nice and slow, and dear Tesla, thick as hell. He reached around Tony’s middle to stroke him, keep him hard and eager. It was a little awkward; Bucky was left handed, but Tony supposed that lube in those finger joints would be a bitch to clean up. “Oh, you feel so tight,” Bucky murmured. “You should see this, Tasha--”

“Take -- ah! A picture. It’ll last longer,” Natasha scolded, poking Bucky in the ribs with a long leg. Bucky caught her ankle, which did interesting things to both the way she was positioned, and the way Bucky moved into Tony. When Natasha groaned, and pushed her other leg up, Bucky rocked all three of them together, using his grip on Natasha’s legs to give him leverage.

“Oh my _god_ ,” Tony said, because that was definitely different. “You two are going to be the death of me, but at least I’ll die happy.” He reached up and found Bucky’s hair, wrapping his fingers in it and tugging.

“Don’t die,” Bucky told him. “If you die, you’ll miss the good bits.” He rocked slowly, perfectly, in and out of Tony’s body. Under Tony, Natasha could barely move, her legs wide spread and pinned, glorious.

Being held like that seemed to make her more sensitive, every lick and stroke met with desperate, pleading gasps as she twisted and moved. Trying to get closer or squirm away, and neither worked. She let loose a torrent of Russian that Tony didn’t quite catch, but made Bucky laugh, which-- oh, that felt _amazing_ , the way they all vibrated together.

God, Tony wasn’t going to last very much longer if this kept up. He redoubled his efforts, determined to bring Natasha off before he succumbed. Bucky was moving faster now, and for a few moments, they worked together like a well-calibrated machine, every movement serving the greater purpose of the whole. It was beautiful, it was sublime, it was _intense_ , as close to flying as Tony could get with his feet on the ground.

Natasha threw her head back, practically arching off the bed, her whole body going rigid. Air hissed in and out of her lungs, and then she screamed, a strangled, glorious gasp. She kicked one leg loose from Bucky’s hold and-- ow, that was probably going to leave a mark, but it was good, because she was completely out of control, oblivious to everything except the way she shuddered and cried out.

Bucky had gone still while she came, watching intently over Tony’s shoulder at every movement.

When Natasha came back to herself, she grinned at him, pulled her knees up. “Wanna finish off in me?”

Tony shuddered. “Oh, yeah.” He scrabbled for one of the condoms Bucky had tossed up earlier and rolled it on with hands shaking from need. He climbed up, positioning himself, acutely aware of Bucky still pressed against his back, and slid into her. Heat and wet and a perfect tension that crawled down his spine and lodged in his balls. “Oh, _fuck_.”

Their well-oiled machine lost its rhythm for a bit. “Let me drive,” Bucky growled in Tony’s ear, and he surrendered to Bucky’s grip on his hips, the way they all moved together, instead of tangling up. They got going again, and it was a continuous line of Bucky sliding into him, and he pushed into Natasha, and then out again, perfect harmony, sweet and slick and so, so hot.

“There you go, there you are, my pretty Tony,” Bucky crooned.

Natasha moved with them, hips rising to meet Tony’s strokes. Her hand was on Tony’s waist, and Bucky linked his fingers with hers, a sweetly innocent gesture.

With Bucky’s relentless pace driving them, the heat built quickly. Tony tucked his head down and tried to prolong it, but there was only so much he could do to stave off his climax with so much perfect sensation surrounding him. He gasped, caught his breath, gasped again, and the world went white for a while -- a few seconds, or an hour, or a year. “Oh god, oh _god_.”

Behind him, Bucky made a sound, some sound, and then he smacked Tony’s ass once, sharply. Not enough to really hurt, but it stung for a second, and then the whole area flooded, hot and perfect. Bucky jerked, once, twice, and then went utterly still, exhaling with a low, shaky moan.

Tony tried to catch his breath. “So that’s a thing we did.” He gave Bucky a minute to breathe, then nudged him gently. “Off. My arms are giving out and Natasha does not want to be crushed.”

Bucky peeled himself off Tony’s back, dropping a kiss between his shoulderblades, before collapsing onto the mattress. “Yeah, that’s a thing we did, all right,” he agreed.

Natasha squirmed out from under Tony, letting him fall face down in between them. “It was a good decision.”

“I need to record that,” Bucky said, and going down to cup Tony’s ass fondly. “She doesn’t credit me with a lot of sense.”

“Two thumbs up, five stars on Yelp,” Tony agreed, not bothering to roll over. He wondered what happened next, but couldn’t quite bring himself to ask.

Natasha rolled over, cuddling against Tony’s side. She reached over his back and linked her hand with Bucky’s again. “We should,” she said, kissing Tony’s ear, his neck, shoulder, “snuggle for a while. Take a nap. And then you will feed us, since we worked so hard. And then, we will figure out what we’re doing next.”

“What’s to figure?” Bucky asked, voice muffled by one of the pillows. “We are dating each other, and we are dating Tony. It’s not complicated. She always makes it complicated.”

“Tony may have opinions of his own, you know,” Natasha said, tart. “That don’t always agree with yours.”

Bucky scoffed, then immediately looked concerned. “I will be needing all that ice cream you were talking about earlier if this is a one and done.”   

Tony thought about it for a moment. “No reason we can’t have ice cream _and_ be dating,” he offered.

“Ice cream as a date?” Natasha suggested. “We can do that. I like this idea, I’m happy to be a part of it.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Picks up a few weeks after chapter one with the relationship being outed… in the worst way possible.
> 
> For the MCU Kink Bingo, square B2 - Trope: Playboy Tony Stark

 

They were Avengers, so having a routine wasn’t anything like stable, but excepting in cases of world-ending villainy, Natasha slept in on Wednesdays, and her roomate-lover -- as opposed to her other lover who had not yet moved in with them, or invited them to change their living situation at all -- went for a run with his best friend.

Running, Bucky firmly maintained, was a sport usually reserved for being chased or shot at, but he did it anyway, because Steve liked to, and because Bucky found it slightly less tedious than watching baseball games, or watching Steve draw things, which were the other things Steve liked to do. So, they went for a marathon every Wednesday, had a huge brunch somewhere, and came home, letting Natasha sleep in well past ten. Decadent.

And since Tony was never awake before noon unless Pepper was poking him with a cattle prod, Natasha got to lounge around in bed, take a long, lazy shower, and generally enjoy the advantages of living in a civilized city.

Which is why it was so disruptive when Bucky came in, still sweaty from his run, holding something tucked under his arm. At seven fifteen.

Natasha looked at him through one eye, still sleep-blurred, and then rolled over and pulled the covers over her head. _Delivery Not Accepted._

“We got a problem, toots,” Bucky said, flopping on the bed next to her and bouncing her on the mattress. Probably on purpose, because it was Bucky and he liked living dangerously.

“The only problem here is that you are waking me up. On _Wednesday_.” Natasha peered out of her cocoon of warm blankets to glare at Bucky. “Why are you not chasing Steve around Long Island?”

Bucky waved the newspaper, because that’s what it was, at her. “Because we happened to run past Stop the Presses! first and I saw this. I thought… you might want to do damage control.”

Natasha growled, but Bucky didn’t take the hint and _go away_. She wormed one arm free of the blankets and snatched the newspaper from him so she could look at it.

 _Playboy Tony Stark playing Russian Roulette?_ teased the headline. Below that -- but well above the fold -- were a pair of pictures. On the left, Tony with his arm around Natasha’s waist, offering her a flower with the other. It was a cute picture, for a pap-shot. They’d had a nice afternoon together.

On the right side of the page, Bucky was crowding Tony against a wall, clearly leaning in for a kiss that Tony looked all too pleased to give. Unfortunately, despite the slightly grainy quality of the picture, both their faces were clearly visible.

“They haven’t hauled out the playboy moniker in a couple of _years_ ,” Natasha said, suddenly chilled despite the layers of blanket.

Bucky snorted. “I’m not Russian, either,” he pointed out. “But they’re not entirely wrong. It’s not too much of a stretch to suppose we’d be angry. If he was cheating. On one of us with the other.”

She’d managed to keep her and Bucky’s relationship out of the papers -- especially given the circumstances when they’d first met and become lovers -- but that was only because no one cared as much what she was up to. Or they were afraid she’d stab them if they talked about it. (Not untrue.) And Bucky’s murder-face tended to dissuade paps from following him around.

Tony, on the other hand, was a pap’s wet dream. They’d been foolish not to take that into account before now. “Tell me he’s not up yet,” Natasha demanded. “Or still.”

“Still,” Bucky said. “But he’s in the workshop, so he hasn’t, you know, seen sunlight. Probably in a few days now.”

Natasha struggled free of the blankets and sat up, pushing her hair out of her face as she contemplated the tabloid headline again. “If he sees this, he’s going to guilt-spiral on us again.” The first few weeks they’d all been dating, Tony had gone through at least six separate panic attacks before they’d managed to convince him that yes, they really wanted him, and no, he wasn’t too old, and yes, he was allowed to enjoy this, and no, they did _not_ think they’d be happier if he let them go back to being a couple. “I’m not doing that again.”

“I’m not sure he wouldn’t find it funny, if we were to pretend to fight over him,” Bucky said, tapping the paper where it opined that Bucky was more likely to shoot Tony than any other outcome. “But everyone else seems to think we will be the ones breaking his neck.”

“It’s a fair assumption,” Natasha said. “If you cheated on me, I’d definitely strangle you.”

“It’s not _cheating_ ,” Bucky said, his eyes going a little wide. “I mean, do you think Tony is going to feel that way? That… we kinda are cheating. The system. Which is set up stupidly, so people can’t have what they want. We’re not hurting anyone, why do they even care?” Bucky flopped forcibly back on the bed and hid his face with a pillow. The fluffy thing did a little bit to muffle his frustrated scream, but really, too loud for no coffee yet.

“Stop that,” Natasha snapped. “We do not have time to panic and rail against the archaic and obsolete societal insistence on pair-bonding. We need to make sure no one _else_ has brought this paper home, and keep Tony from checking his news feed for the rest of the day. At least.” She reached for her phone.

“There’s _always_ time for panic,” Bucky insisted from under the pillow. “Steve thinks the photos are doctored. He thought I was mad because of some fake pictures.”

Natasha paused, her finger hovering over the phone screen. “What did you tell him?” They hadn’t come out to their teammates as a trio, yet, largely because Tony still seemed a little nervous about the whole thing.

“I didn’t tell him anything,” Bucky said. He pulled the pillow off his face and gave Natasha his _I could kill you with my pinkie and a paperclip_ look. “I made that face until he stopped asking questions. Tony hasn’t said it’s okay to tell anyone yet.”

“Okay.” Natasha pulled up her contacts list. “You go sweep the common areas and make sure no one else has brought this thing home, as a joke, or something. I’m... going to call Pepper.”

Bucky gave her a disbelieving look. “You brave soul.” He didn’t dispute her decision, though, raking his fingers through disheveled hair until he looked mostly civilized, and fleeing the room before she could change her mind.

Natasha’s finger hovered over the Call button for a moment. If Pepper had seen this -- and there was little hope that she hadn’t -- then she was going to be _pissed_.

But Natasha had to get to Pepper before Pepper got to Tony. Resolve firmed, she pushed the button.

“I assume,” Pepper’s voice came crisply out of the phone, “that you are calling to grovel, because if I had the ability to fire you, rest assured, my advice would be to polish your resume.”

“Pepper, I can explain. It’s not as bad as it looks.”

“It could not possibly be as bad as it looks!” Pepper practically shrieked. “And while _reckless_ and _foolhardy_ are both words I usually use to describe Tony, he’s not so criminally negligent of other people’s hearts. His own reputation, he could care less, but he’d gone through a lot of work to keep you and Barnes, and the other team members from being smeared by the press. Even when, I might add, some of you desperately deserved it.”

“I know,” Natasha tried, placating, “I know, he’s been so incredibly generous with us, and he’s a good man. He wouldn’t ever do anything to hurt someone, not like that. And I promise there’s a good explanation for those pictures.”

“I’m breathless with anticipation,” Pepper said.

Natasha winced. “The thing is,” she said carefully, “I can’t... tell you what it is.”

“I really don’t think I can take the stress,” Pepper said in that matter of fact voice that always worried everyone. Especially since Natasha was pretty sure she meant that. That one day, all of Pepper’s hair was going to turn white and she was going to fall over on the spot. “Is it _classified_? Don’t tell me it’s classified, Romanoff, don’t you dare say that.”

“It’s not classified,” Natasha said. “It’s just, I don’t... I don’t have Tony’s permission to tell you. And it would be a dick move of monumental proportions to jump that gun. Stark Tower sized dick.”

“I wish everyone would remember that _I_ designed Stark Tower,” Pepper said in a huff and then hung up the phone.

“Well. That could have gone... worse.”

***

Natasha got in the shower, an excuse to not deal with the issue at the present moment. And sometimes she did her best thinking in the shower.

She was out, wrapped the brilliant red towel around herself, twisted her hair up into a dripping knot at the back of her neck when the door crashed open again.

“Do you think we will need some of our teammates? I can make it look like an accident,” Bucky promised.

Natasha considered it thoughtfully. “We could probably make do without some of them. Why? What have they been doing?”

There was a thud in the living room, followed by a slither of what sounded like a whole stack of papers. “Clint. And Sam. And Thor. _Exist_.”

“Thor would be difficult to replace,” Natasha observed. She walked out into the living room and then stopped, arrested by the number of gossip rags on the ground by Bucky’s feet. “Did they buy out the nearest three newsstands?”

“I think that’s where Thor came into it,” Bucky said, kicking one of the papers extra hard. It hit the wall with enough force to vibrate the picture frame hanging on it. “Clint doesn’t have money, even when he has money, he doesn’t have money.”

The paper slid down the wall and landed with the offending article face-down. Which really didn’t help, since Tony was staring up at her from at least forty copies of the damn paper.

“Well... at least Tony won’t spot it if he goes across the street for coffee?” Natasha tried. “What are we going to do with all of these?” She bent to recover the nearest one. “There’s no way we can stuff them all in the garbage chute.”

Bucky watched her, eyes gleaming as the towel slipped. “We have a very nice grill on our balcony,” he suggested. “As Sam says; some men just like to watch the word burn.”

Natasha suppressed a smile. “I don’t think that’s how the saying goes. Besides--”

 _Knock knock knock_.

Well, it wasn’t Clint. Clint didn’t bother knocking. “You answer it,” she told Bucky, backing toward the bathroom door. “I’m not decent.”

“You’re never decent,” Bucky said, smacking her thigh on his way to the door. “You just--” The door opened half an inch, not enough to give anyone a look and then-- “Shit! Tony!”

And Bucky slammed the door, turned the knob and leaned on the door.

“Fuck!”

Natasha stared at him, wide-eyed in surprise. “Tony?”

“Uh, he, yes, but--”

“But he’s never come to us before! He always waits for us to go to him!” That was a good sign, if Tony was coming to them, right? It meant he was beginning to trust them. It meant he was opening up, relaxing, letting himself believe in this relationship... “You just slammed the door in his face.”

Bucky made a sweeping gesture at the floor. “This does not look good, Tasha!”

“Okay, I know, but... All right. You... do something with these!” She dashed past Bucky to the door, opened it a sliver, and squeezed out into the hall, closing the door behind her. “Tony?”

Tony had stepped back at the door and was staring at it in something like confusion. Of course, as soon as he saw Natasha’s lack of attire, his eyes were drawn elsewhere. “Oh, uh. Hi. I was just-- But it looks like you’re busy.”

From the other side of the door, Bucky yelled, “I am an idiot. Don’t hold it against Nat.”

Natasha nodded. “He is an idiot. But we’re glad to see you!” She reached out to catch Tony’s hand and pull him closer. “It’s a nice surprise. I thought you’d be in the workshop all day.”

“Well, I was, but then I thought, you know, I haven’t seen you guys for a while, so I thought I’d just kind of... check in? Maybe make out a little, you know. But if you’re, you know, busy...”

“I like this idea,” Bucky yelled again. “Happy to be a part of it… just-- give us a minute!”

Natasha leaned against the door, partly so she could better afix the towel (Tony seeing her mostly naked was one thing, Thor wandering by at the wrong time was something else entirely) and so that Tony couldn’t go around her. “What are you working on in the shop?”

Rarely was that a question ever ignored; Tony could talk for hours about his work in the shop to any and everyone who wanted to listen. A masterful strategy, if one’s purpose was distracting Tony from pretty much anything.

“Oh, lots of things.” He perked up a bit. “I had this idea for a new mesh weave for our body armor, so we’re hashing out the cross-section on that. And Thor fried another communicator, so I’m working on insulating that a bit better. Oh! And there’s this new...” He trailed off, frowning at the door. “Is that... paper?” He raised his voice. “Bucky, I thought we cured you of Steve’s old-man obsession with physical newspapers!”

“Yes, yes, you’re absolutely right--” more crunching sounds, crumpling noises. Natasha was pretty sure he wasn’t going to be able to burn it without setting off the fire alarm, and there was not really a good place in the apartment to stuff it, unless he put it in a closet--

There was the faintest chime as the balcony door slid open. What the hell was he doing in there, anyway?

“Just-- a minu-- _fuck_! minute!”

Tony frowned. “What... what is he doing in there? Does he need help?” He reached for the doorknob.

“I’m quite sure Bucky needs a lot of help,” Natasha said. “Equally certain you’re not qualified for that level of disaster.” _Bucky, hurry up._ She probably wasn’t telepathic, but it couldn’t hurt to try, right?

Tony cocked his head at her, then reached for the doorknob again. “Come on, whatever he’s doing, it can’t be that bad.”

“Uh, well, you know, it’s--”

Tony rolled his eyes and nudged Natasha out of the way so he could open the door. “Don’t know if you know this, but I’m a superhero. I can handle a little bit of--” He broke off as he pushed into their living room.

Bucky was standing by the open door to the balcony, arms folded. All the newspapers were gone.

Tony looked around, slightly confused. “Are you... Is everything okay?”

“Fine, great, better now that you’re here,” Bucky said, turning away from the door hastily. He moved across the room to drop a kiss on Tony’s mouth.

Tony returned the kiss, but then pulled away to look at Natasha. “What’s going on in here?”

Natasha straightened up, tugging her towel back into place with a little more production than, clearly, it needed, but hey, Tony was often distracted by a good pair of breasts, too. “Nothing,” she said. Which was true, because there was, currently, nothing going on.

“And you’re... sure I’m not interrupting anything,” Tony said cautiously.

“Nope,” Bucky said, curling up around Tony like the world’s biggest cat. “Everything’s just--”

A piece of one of the newspapers blew in from the porch door, drifted around the room, and settled.

Face up.

Right in front of Tony.

And of course it was the front damn page.

“You what, threw them off the balcony? All of them?” Natasha couldn’t quite help shrieking.

“Uh, yes?” Bucky confessed.

Tony looked up from the paper at Natasha. And then at Bucky. Then he carefully extricated himself from Bucky’s embrace and went out onto the balcony and looked over the edge. “Huh. That is... that is a _lot_ of newspapers.”

“I would like to state for the record that this is at least… _thirty percent_ Barton’s fault,” Bucky said.

Tony nodded, still looking over the balcony. “I believe that.” He came back into the living room, shutting the door behind him. “So... What? You were trying to keep me from seeing that, I guess?”

“Well, yes?” Bucky pushed his foot around on the floor like a little kid that had been caught stealing out of the cookie jar.

“It’s not-- certainly the whole situation is a little awkward, and I don’t think anyone really wanted to come out… it’s rude to out someone,” Natasha said.

“And we haven’t really settled exactly what this is,” Bucky continued. “So, what’s to tell? It’s not anyone’s business anyway.”

“Well, that’s true,” Tony said. He picked up the lone sheet lying on the floor and studied it. “I should probably fill Pepper in, though, or she’s going to burst a blood vessel when she sees this.”

“She already did that,” Natasha confessed. “Sort of. Mine. A little bit.”

“How can someone burst a blood vessel a little bit?” Bucky wondered.

“You’ve met Pepper,” Tony pointed out. “So it’s okay if I tell her that we’re... dating?”

“Of course it’s okay,” Natasha said. “We just-- didn’t think you were comfortable with that, yet. A relationship is always harder when it’s in the public eye like this. We should have been more careful. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah,” Bucky said. “We didn’t mean to make things awkward.”

Tony blinked. He looked back and forth between them, and then burst out laughing. “Awkward? Have you ever googled me? Even once? This doesn’t even scrape the surface of _awkward!_ ” He chuckled again and pulled out his phone, thumbs flicking as he sent a text message.

Bucky exchanged a rueful glance with Natasha. “Well, I mean, we’ve seen--”

“But you’re not with any of them anymore. And… we wanted… especially since everything’s so new. It’d be-- easier to move on, I suppose.”

“Which, if we get a vote on that, I am not in favor.”

Tony looked up. “You thought I’d cut and run? Over a little bad press? _Seriously?_ Well, now I’m hurt.”

“We, uh--” Bucky pointed between Tony and Natasha and himself. “We, uh, need to work on our communication skills, I guess. I thought you might be angry, or upset.”

“Or feel guilty,” Natasha said, because they might as well call a spade a spade at that point.

“Well, I’m pretty angry with the damn paparazzi,” Tony said. “Jesus, a guy can’t have a quiet outing anymore. And it’s... possible. Just barely. That I might have freaked out a little bit when I saw it. If only because I know neither of you want to be dragged into the spotlight.”

“I care about you very much,” Bucky said, with that face, the one that was basically all his feelings on display, like some sort of labrador billboard. “And I don’t care who knows this.”

Natasha rubbed at her face, trying to push away the headache. “I care who knows it because I wanted it to come out on _our_ terms. Once we were… more comfortable with it. Why make a flash in the pan, if it doesn’t work out? I want it to work out, of course I do, don’t look at me in that tone of voice, Bucky. But if it doesn’t, things are going to be awful enough without everybody and their uncle commenting on it.”

“So, we just make it work out,” Bucky said. “She always has to make it _complicated_.”

Tony looked at Natasha. “He may have a point.”

“It’s just that simple? We make it work?” Natasha wanted to believe that, but she’d wanted a lot of things, and rarely ever got them. And she really, really wanted this.

Tony reached out and snared the top of her towel, using it to pull her closer. “We make it work,” he agreed. “We can do this.”

“All in favor, the motion passes unanimously,” Bucky said, sliding one arm around Natasha’s waist, the other going around Tony’s shoulders, bringing them all together for one nice, safe, warm hug. And if the towel fell off in the process, well…

That was just moving everyone in the right direction.


End file.
